Review: Bob Dylan in Nashville lives up to fans’ expectations

Bob Dylan performs at the AmericanaramA Festival of Music on the Lawn at Riverfront Park on Sunday evening, June 30, 2013, in Nashville. Click on image for more photos. (photo: Samuel M. Simpkins / The Tennessean)

The venue was a nondescript area just south of the Shelby Avenue pedestrian bridge. The sound was superb if you fought your way up front and stood for more than five hours. The sound was lacking in power and immediacy if you spread a blanket out on the hill that leads to the Korean Veterans Bridge.

Strain brought sonic solace. Comfort came with inadequate volume. Pick your poison, knowing that a ticket plus “convenience” fees was more than $80. So, the poison was expensive. And the compromise could have been averted with additional sound support.

You may also gripe about the wait time to get in, which for some ticket-holders was more than a half-hour post-parking. And about the beer line, which was more than a half-hour. And I suppose you may gripe about a headliner who insists on reinventing his classic songs, denying us the thrill of singing along and chilling the warm fuzzies that would result from rote nostalgia.

But that’s where I’ll disagree.

Want to hear a classic rock band play the hits, exactly as they sound on record? Buy a ticket to the next Eagles reunion.

Want to hear a maverick reinvent the songs that reinvented rock ‘n’ roll? Go see Dylan.

Will the reinventions be as satisfying as the initial inventions? Of course not. Dylan’s croon and swoon is now a grumble and a howl, and if you’re hoping for a replication of something recorded 40 or 50 years ago then you’re going to be disappointed. Bob Dylan is not a jukebox, he’s an intriguingly warped artist. He changed popular culture and transformed the language of popular music. That’s kind of a big deal, and we should revel in our opportunities to hear him, to experience him and to celebrate him.

Sunday night, he and his band opened with a snarling and sped-up “Things Have Changed.” Dylan played keyboard and moved playfully and mischievously around the stage as he delivered a prickly “Tangled Up In Blue,” an epic “She Belongs To Me” and intriguing runs through newer songs “Love Sick,” “Early Roman Kings” and “Duquesne Whistle.” His stage patter was nonexistent, as he resisted every golden opportunity to link the evening’s performance to his classic “Nashville Skyline Album” or to otherwise personalize or patronize the night. Bob Dylan needs golden opportunities like we need whatever it is that we don’t particularly need.

What else happened? Bob Weir played a late afternoon acoustic set and seemed far beyond whatever health issues led to his collapse during a late April concert in upstate New York. Weir also guested during the My Morning Jacket and Wilco sets, soaring during the Wilco collaboration of the Dead’s “Bird Song.” My Morning Jacket was sprawling and experimental, and Wilco was emphatic and melodic. And AmericanaramA was a blast, and a worthy unofficial kick-off to Music City’s 4th of July celebrations.